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by DieAstra



Series: Nanda Parbat [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:39:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3429791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DieAstra/pseuds/DieAstra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for episode 3x15 which airs this week!<br/>Malcolm Merlyn is back at Nanda Parbat. This story was inspired by promotion pictures. If you have seen them as well, you'll know what to expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back

Back

He was back. Back in the place that once had meant so much to him. Forced to kneel before the man who had changed his life forever. And who now would take that life from him. Of that Malcolm had no doubt. It was only a matter of time. But he wouldn’t be dying quickly, he would have to suffer. Until the time came that he welcomed death with open arms.

Malcolm also knew that nothing he could possibly say would make a difference. So he didn’t bother. His pride was all he had left. He refused to talk at all while kneeling before Ra’s al Ghul. He contended himself with throwing hateful glances towards the man while subtly testing his restraints – damn, they were tight, no way to wriggle out of them - and otherwise tried to let whatever Ra’s was saying wash over him. It was not important. They all knew why he was here and what the result would be. But obviously, Ra’s felt the need to make an example of him in front of his men. Malcolm just wished he would get it over and done with it.

It was like in an action movie with the bad guy making his impressive final speech. To be honest, Malcolm had done his fair share of gloating at other opportunities. It came with the territory. Funny how your perspective changed when you were on the receiving end. The hard cold stone floor dug mercilessly into his kneecaps and he still felt weak from whatever they had dosed him with. He was getting too old for this shit.

He’d tried to fight them when they came for him, but there were three of them and he was alone. And he didn’t have his weapons. Still, he’d managed to kill one with the knife he always hid in his boot. But then he had felt the prick of a dart in his neck. His usual effective moves became sluggish and his punches lacked power. Bastards. Should he feel honored that Ra’s had felt the need to send three goons after him, or insulted that it hadn’t been five?

He had been only dimly aware how they had dragged him to the helicopter and how he had ended up here.

Here, that was Nanda Parbat.

When Ra’s made the mistake of getting down to Malcolm’s level to stare right into his eyes while making the most disturbing comment about Thea, Malcolm spat into his face. That earned him a forceful punch to the jaw and he finally passed out.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

When he came to, his surroundings had changed. The first thing he noticed was blissful silence. He was alone then. He suddenly jerked fully awake, realizing his hands had been forced into manacles and he was standing on some kind of pedestal, with his arms strung up high in the air. The classic torture pose and one that would become uncomfortable very quickly. Malcolm knew that standing like that for hours would eventually make breathing very difficult and would also put considerable strain on his heart. In the long run, one could die just from that. Yet it was nothing he couldn’t handle, at least for a while.

Was this all Ra’s al Ghul had got? Doubtful.

As if on cue there was a sudden noise – like a hiss. The darkened room lit up with a warm orange shine. Malcolm tried to peek down to see what was happening. Only then he realized that his jacket was gone, as well as his shoes and socks. And that the hiss he had heard was a fire being lit. Right under his feet. Oh joy!

He should have known. He remembered when he had taught Thea the famous “Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional” line in Corto Maltese. Now he was at the hands of the man from whom he had learnt this painful lesson. Unfortunately Ra’s knew all his secrets. He and his men had taught Malcolm how to push back the pain, how to lock it away in a box, to separate yourself from it until it didn’t matter anymore. 

The worst thing you possibly could do was let yourself get caught by the one man in the whole world who knew everything you knew. Who would anticipate your every reaction. Who knew exactly how high your pain threshold was, and who therefore would try to go straight over it.

This man wouldn’t bother with trifles. Ra’s didn’t even want anything from him – there would be no interrogation, no questioning, no secrets to elicit. No noble cause to fight for. He simply wanted Malcolm to suffer. And finally, for him to die. For a split second, Malcolm admitted to himself that this time he was indeed in big trouble. Then he pushed this thought away and concentrated on what was happening.

The metal pedestal he was standing on had warmed up by now and was starting to become uncomfortably hot. Malcolm considered his options. There weren’t many. He grabbed the chains he was hanging from harder, and raised his feet into the air. That gave him a brief respite but put even more strain on his shoulders, so after several minutes he had to give in and let go.

Which put his feet right back where they had been. Malcolm hissed involuntarily when they touched the hot metal plate.

Then he changed tactics. No reason for the soles of his feet to get cooked in their entirety. He alternated between standing on his toes and heels, alternated the left foot and the right foot, all to try and minimize the damage. But he could feel the first blisters already beginning to form. If he wanted to make it out of here alive, he should do it before walking became impossible.

In the middle of his breathing through the pain while trying not to stand still for too long, he heard a clap. Ra’s al Ghul emerged from the shadows he had hidden in and walked towards him while clapping his hands gleefully. Malcolm swore inwardly. Not alone then. Of course not.

“Very impressive, your nice little dance. I wonder for how long you can keep it up though.” The words were accompanied by a malicious grin.

Malcolm stopped moving at once. Lesson number two: Never let the enemy see that you are suffering. Act nonchalantly. Nothing important to see here. Just a man hanging around casually. Move on.

Unfortunately, Ra’s didn’t think about moving on. The ground was literally getting hot under Malcolm’s feet. He also started to see black spots at the edge of his vision. He just hoped he wouldn’t pass out in front of Ra’s. That would be quite embarrassing.

For a moment that seemed to last forever, the two men just stared at each other. A silent battle of wills. Then Ra’s snapped his fingers. The fire dimmed and finally went out. Nice magic trick there. Two men dressed in the typical League outfit marched in and lowered the chains. Malcolm flinched when his arms dropped down after being held up for such a long time. He tried to struggle just out of spite but the men simply grabbed him and marched him over to one of the cells. And to be honest, he really could use a break. He’d get them next time.

He was unceremoniously thrown into the cell. His legs refused to cooperate at all and so he fell down, hard. He dimly heard the others leave and close the door. Then everything went black.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

Malcolm awoke with a start and for a moment struggled to orientate himself. The room was dark save for a torch in one corner. Carefully he sat up and leant against the wall. He inspected his cell. Not much to see there – three stone walls and the front was made up with heavy bars.

He knew this cell. His training had also consisted of being put into it when he had been here the last time. Several of the candidates that wanted to join the League of Assassins had been told that only the first three making it out would be chosen. Everyone scrambled around frantically while trying to find a way out and to be cleverer and quicker than the others. A neat trick to set them up against each other when in fact the door only could be opened if all of them worked together, pushing hidden buttons in different places at the same time. It was done to find out if they could work as a team, if they could trust each other. Also to see how they worked under pressure. The day had stretched well into the night before they figured it out, and finally they all stood before Ra’s tired, exhausted, but proud that they had made it.

Malcolm had been so proud back then. He had been an eager student who wanted to please his master.

Now he wanted to defeat him. Only the student will have hope of defeating the master. 

The ceiling of the cell wasn’t even worth mentioning, and the “facilities”, to use the term loosely, consisted of a mere hole in the floor. Charming.

Malcolm noticed a plate and a jar on the ground in front of the door. He crawled over and tested the contents of the jar carefully. He’d rather suffer from thirst than being drugged again, but luckily it seemed to be only plain water. 

The plate held an indefinable grey mush that neither smelled nor tasted very good. But he forced himself to eat it as he needed to keep his strength. And who knew when he would get another chance.

Then he fell into an exhausted sleep.

*********************************************************************************************************************************************

 

They had given him time to heal which unfortunately gave him way too much time to think. 

Could he hope for some sort of rescue? For how long had he been missing now? And who would even miss him? Certainly not Diggle or Felicity who never made a secret of their hatred for him.

Oliver? Doubtful. They hadn’t spoken since Malcolm had pulled that stunt with Slade on the island. Maybe not one of his better moves. He had miscalculated. Again.

Malcolm hadn’t even started to teach Oliver everything he knew about Ra’s al Ghul, so even if the kid was stupid enough to try anyway, he might not survive this time. Malcolm was certain everyone in their right mind would talk Oliver out of it.

And Thea… None of the pain Ra’s al Ghul could inflict on him would hurt as much as the pain in his heart. Malcolm was actually surprised that it hurt quite so much. He had thought his heart had already shattered to pieces when Thea claimed that she wouldn’t be his daughter anymore. It had left him cold and numb inside. It also had pulled the rug out from under his feet. Still, he hadn’t seen her betrayal coming.

But Ra’s had taken great pleasure in gloating how he came to know about his whereabouts – that it had been Thea of all people who had sold him out. Malcolm felt he should actually be proud of her. Even if the result was – inconvenient. He obviously had trained her well. Maybe a little too well, but then, he couldn’t complain. He remembered telling her how proud he was of her when she had shot him back at the station. 

So no, no rescue could be expected. If he wanted to make it out of here, he’d have to start thinking.

Once his feet had healed enough he was back for another round as a Thanksgiving turkey. Time soon became a blur. He couldn’t tell whether it was day or night. Time in Nanda Parbat was a funny little thing. When he had returned home to Tommy twenty years ago, he had been surprised to find that only two years had passed in the outside world while in truth he had been gone and in training for much longer.

So he couldn’t know for how long he had been here already, and for how long he really had been gone where the outside world was concerned. 

He felt his mind starting to slip, and his body beginning to shut down. It became harder and harder to care about anything. Maybe it was better this way. He had lost everything that once had meant something to him. Rebecca, Tommy, Moira and also Thea. Nothing left to fight for. So why did he still struggle to stay alive? When it would be so much easier to give in, to welcome the darkness? He didn’t know. Maybe his stubbornness wouldn’t let him.

He barely could keep his eyes open. 

Suddenly he registered movement. Someone was stealthily sneaking into the room. He blinked smoke-induced tears from his eyes. Maybe he had started to hallucinate. Was that really Oliver standing there? And Diggle? What the hell were they doing here? Were they even real?

If they were shocked to see him like this, they didn’t show it and a small part of him was grateful for that. The last thing he needed was their pity. Just somebody to get him out of these chains. Preferably right now?

But before they could make any move, there was another noise at the door and Ra’s and his men came in. Malcolm had forced himself to raise his head a couple of inches, but now he let it drop again. He should have known better than to hope against hope. Now they indeed would all die.

With sudden dread he realized that this was the only reason he was still alive – to lure Oliver over here. He had been the bait. He’d have rather killed himself than help with this perfidious plan.

To his surprise, Oliver and Diggle did not put up a fight. They went with their captors unresistingly. But shortly before he passed through the door, Oliver directed a warning glance right at Malcolm. This glance told him to stay alert. It wasn’t over yet.

The fire went out but it took a long while for someone to come and get him down. When the door finally opened, it was only one guard instead of the usual two. Apparently everyone else was busy with their new prisoners. This was his chance, it was now or never. Oliver and Diggle had finally provided the distraction Malcolm had waited for all this time. He was suddenly wide awake, adrenaline rushing through his veins. But he kept his breathing even and sagged a little more, schooling his features into those of a man who posed no threat.

He was a dead weight in the arms of the man who lowered him. Malcolm waited patiently for him to open his cuffs, hoping the man would let down his guard. When he did, Malcolm acted in a split second. The man was dead before he realized his mistake. His neck had been snapped.

Malcolm dragged the body over to his cell and took the time to switch clothes. When he left, he was once again clad in the familiar black uniform. With it, some of his strength came back. Walking in the stiff boots without letting his limp show certainly was a challenge, but he pushed back the pain and went in search of the others. The mask that hid most of his face provided welcome cover, and he made it through the palace without raising any suspicion.

But he made sure that the knives he had found in the holsters were ready if someone just looked at him for a second too long.

The others had been brought to the big hall. When Malcolm walked in, Oliver was on his knees, with his hands cuffed at the back and with Ra’s pointing a sword right at his throat. Diggle was over in the corner, a man holding him on either side.

“To try and beat me once is brave, but foolish. To try and beat me twice is a deadly mistake.”

Ra’s’ voice was a low grumble but Oliver didn’t even blink. His Adam’s apple bopping when he swallowed hard was the only reaction he showed. Malcolm moved carefully around the room until he was amidst Ra’s men and right opposite of Oliver.

Then he waited for his signal.

And waited.

And waited a little longer, while Ra’s still felt the need for flowery threats. Was there a 101 for people like him to learn how to make the most ridiculous speeches?

Suddenly, there it was. A blink of Oliver’s eyes and all hell broke loose. Malcolm saw from the corner of his eye that Oliver had managed to get out of his cuffs somehow and was now wielding Ra’s sword.

Then he concentrated on taking down some men himself. Diggle put up a good fight as well, and Malcolm threw over one of his knives to help him. Diggle accepted with a thankful nod, and between the three of them it did not take long till every single one of the men was on the ground.

Some of them dead, who had been unfortunate to be within Malcolm’s reach, others severely wounded so they could not put up a fight anymore.. 

The three men congregated, breathing heavily.

“Where’s Ra’s?”, Malcolm asked, still catching his breath.

“As soon as the fight broke out, he slipped away.” Oliver’s eyes were very dark. He had a bleeding gash on his forehead. Diggle on the other hand seemed unhurt, but was holding his right arm rather stiffly. He tried not to show it but Malcolm spotted it right away, having been in the same situation himself.

Malcolm’s feet felt as if he was walking on thumbtacks, but he certainly wasn’t going to mention it.

None of them was in any condition to continue fighting. But if they left now, all would have been for nothing. The blood debt would still be on Malcolm’s head. He looked from one to the other.

“So? What now?”

“I think we should leave.” That was Oliver.

“I think we should stay”, Diggle said at the same time. Malcolm’s heart missed a beat. What the…?

A silent conversation passed between Diggle and Oliver. Malcolm didn’t wait for it to end and started walking towards the door.

“I agree with Oliver. There will be another time. Let’s go! How did you get here?”

Oliver grinned. “We took the liberty of using your private plane. Hope you don’t mind! It’s parked in the valley as there was no place big enough to land up here. We rented a helicopter. It’s just behind the hill.”

They carefully made their way outside the castle but thankfully did not encounter any more people. Once outside, they ran. Malcolm had to grit his teeth but was able to keep up with the others.

Oliver led them around the hill, and there indeed was the helicopter. There also was Ra’s al Ghul standing right in front of it. The poor man who had been their pilot lied in the grass, his lifeless eyes staring at the sky.

They dropped down for cover, Malcolm’s brain frantically searching for a way out. He couldn’t find one.

There was only one thing that was still important to him. He was a man of honor after all.

“I’ll go, give myself up. The two of you might have a chance then. It’s me he wants. You once saved my life, Oliver, now let me do the same for you.”

He was surprised at how angrily Oliver reacted to his offer. He was shouting far louder than strictly necessary. “The hell you will! Thea still needs you! You come back with us and if I have to drag you!”

Malcolm was confused for a couple of seconds until he realized what Oliver was doing. From the corner of his eye he checked for Ra’s. He was looking into their direction, seemingly amused, but not moving away from the helicopter.

In the meantime, Diggle had disappeared.

Malcolm stood up and now raised his voice as well. “Thea doesn’t need me! It was she who brought me here in the first place! I’d rather die than ever see her again! You tell her that!”

Oliver jumped up. “You tell her yourself! I didn’t come all this way just to see you die! What is it with you Merlyns?”

It maybe wasn’t the best of distractions but it worked. Suddenly the engines of the helicopter roared and Ra’s had to duck to avoid getting caught in the whirl of the rotors. Before he could react, the helicopter had made its way to Malcolm and Oliver, and the two of them jumped into it.

But Ra’s did not give up so easily. When they passed over him, he jumped up and grabbed one of the skids. For a while he was just clinging there then he tried to climb up. Malcolm extended his left leg and his foot connected hard with Ra’s head. Hot pain shot up but at least Ra’s fell down again. But he still refused to let go.

Diggle managed to keep the machine steady in the air during their battle, but Malcolm could hear him swear over the loud noise. Then Diggle yelled something but Malcolm understood only fragments. “… have… get rid… can’t…”

Oliver leant over and yelled into his ear. “We have to do something! We won’t make it over the mountains like that!”

Malcolm looked down and saw the distorted face of Ra’s, full of hatred. Nothing was left of his usual calm demeanor. This was the face of a man who would fight till the very end. Only one way to finish this.

“Hold my legs!”, Malcolm commanded and then he leant his upper body out into the air, while Oliver was sitting on his legs and held tight with all his might. With his head upside down, Malcolm managed a few stabs with the knife onto Ra’s hands.

One of his fingers was slipping, then the next, then another. It was agonisingly slow- going. Blood was ringing in Malcolm’s ears. One last stab and Ra’s finally let go and fell into one of the deep mountain lakes. If anyone ever found him there, it certainly would take a long time.

The helicopter steadied at once. Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief.

They had made it. They really had made it. But there was one last thing Malcolm needed to know.

“So, Diggle? Something you haven’t told me?”

Diggle who was working the controls like a professional, grinned. 

“I figured in our line of work, learning how to fly a helicopter surely would come in handy.”

And Oliver added helpfully, “Nice to know you don’t know everything, Malcolm.”

Huh. So this was the reason why Diggle had been in the Arrow lair so rarely during the last year. He had been busy elsewhere. Malcolm thought it through for a while.

Then he felt his own face splitting into a huge grin as well when he had found his punch line: “Please tell me you don’t want to fly my plane as well?”

 

The End.

 

If you want to know what happened after Malcolm returned home, look for the story “Aftermath” by my friend BethAlex on AO3. It's up now! http://archiveofourown.org/works/3433130


End file.
